Black Fur, Pure Heart
by Red Warrior
Summary: Sequel to "Show Me How to Live" - Nothing lasts forever, and Spectre will soon find out that neither do good things.
1. Ambushed

Disclaimer: I do not own the Brotherhood and the Dark Legion. However I do own Tressa-Ca and the plot.

WARNING: violence and abuse will appear in the next chapters. If you can't stand it, don't read – or put your hands over your eyes, which is about the same.

_Hey, you're a riddle I say as I move aside  
Like I really need your advice  
But you won't leave it alone  
Little men try but don't get a lot done  
Living in sin don't move me either way  
I get a feeling you're so vague  
Like I said before  
Little men come when anything goes_

_  
When the rain comes I sit home and pray  
Make it all numb I wish it all away  
All I really need is just somewhere to hide away  
Kick him when he's down  
Here alone I'll put up and fight  
Kick him when he's down  
Beat me all the way I'll take it all night  
Kick him when he's down  
Hey, don't worry, I'll get along home alright_

_Hey, everybody's supposed to be the same  
So how come they're so lame?  
It's like taking a fall  
Keep on running back into that wall  
Awake in a dream, get up and go to work  
But I'm feeling like such a jerk  
Like I said before  
Little men come when everything goes_

"Kick Him When He's Down," by The Offspring.

_**Black Fur, Pure Heart**_

Spectre the Echidna groggily woke up when his alarm clock went off. He turned the stupid thing off with a growl and lied back down on his bed. _Why did I program this darn thing in the first place? _he angrily thought, rolling onto his side to see if his wife had been awakened as well.

But no, Tressa-Ca was still asleep, even if she stirred a little. _I'll have to remember to turn the volume down; Tressa isn't really in a good mood when woken up abruptly. _Spectre chuckled quietly and was about to go back to sleep when a thought occurred to him: why had a planned to wake up so early? He couldn't put his finger on it, though the answer seemed to come closer… and closer… until suddenly-

"Good morning Dad!" Thunderhawk cheerfully shouted as he jumped on his parents' bed, right on top of Spectre who gasped. The six years old lavender echidna smiled broadly and looked down at his father with shimmering blue eyes. "It's time to get up! Haven't you heard your alarm clock? Yesterday you said we'd have to get up early in order to get ready for the picnic!"

_Alarm clock? Picnic? Oh yeah, I remember now… _Spectre sighed; he'd just told his son they would go on a picnic the day before. That had to be the biggest mistake in his life. The black echidna yawned and closed his eyes. "Maybe later, son. As in, tomorrow." Spectre heard a chuckle and realized Tressa was now awake and laughing at him.

From his position on the bed's covers, Thunderhawk slightly pouted and crossed his arms. "But you said we would go today!" he protested. "You promised!"

"You and your mother tricked me into this," Spectre replied sleepily. "Now be a good boy, listen to your father and let him sleep some more, will you."

"You still promised!"

Silence followed that sentence and the young one realized his father was ignoring him. "Dad, are you even listening to me? Dad? Hey, Dad, come on it's not funny! Dad!" Thunderhawk began calling his father over and over, proceeding to bounce on the black echidna's abdomen to emphasize each word.

Tressa rolled over to where she faced Spectre. "I think your son is calling for you, honey," she told him.

"What do you mean, _my _son?" Spectre sleepily asked. "He's mine as much as he's yours, you know. And on the other hand maybe he'll go away if I just keep on ignoring him."

"Too bad!" Thunderhawk said before plunging between his parents. "You know I don't give up that easily."

"Forgive me for forgetting a oh so important thing. Now, what is it you wanted already?" Spectre asked while rubbing his aching temples, trying to seem awake.

"You promised!"

"Oh yeah, that's right." A sigh. "Well, I guess we're going then."

"Really?" Thunderhawk said, grinning brightly and widened hopeful eyes.

"No." Spectre rolled over and faked sleep as his son fumed with exasperation. "Goodnight."

"It's not fair," the lavender little boy mumbled before getting off of the bed and out of the room. Tressa sighed; Spectre could be worse than a child at times. And after all, he did promise, there was no way he could back up now. The female echidna turned to face her sleeping husband and poked his shoulder.

"Can't a man have some rest?" the black echidna growled.

"Not when a man hasn't held his promise," she replied, pulling him towards her so he was lying on his back. "Not when a man has promised his son he would go on a picnic and decided against it at the very last minute."

Spectre sighed and began rubbing his sleepy eyes. "I don't see what you're talking about," he lied.

"Don't be childish, Spectre." Tressa grabbed Spectre's metallic hand still rubbing an eye and took it away from the dark echidna's face, which was hidden behind it. "You know exactly what I'm talking about. Now, we're going on that picnic, whether you like it or not."

"Oh yeah?" Spectre smirked. "Think you could beat me in a fight?"

"I most than certainly am sure I don't need a fight to convince you." Spectre raised an eyebrow and smiled knowingly as he felt lips on his neck. He growled low in his chest; he knew he would agree to go on this picnic, he just wanted to know how long his wife's "convincing" would last. "Do I?"

"Hmm, depends…" Spectre muttered while his flesh hand half-absently caressed Tressa's soft fur. The light lavender female smiled, knowing or at least thinking she was getting through him as she pulled him to her and kissed him full on the lips. Spectre found himself kissing back, both of his arms around Tressa now and one of hers around his neck.

Tressa pulled back. "And what about now?"

"Maybe, I'll have to think about it," Spectre faked. His wife chuckled and laid her head on his scarred chest, running her hand through the dark fur there. Spectre's breath caught in his throat as she brushed some sensible spots near his surgery scars; Tressa knew he was a bit ticklish there, and so caressed the fur till he laughed a little. "All right, all right, you've won! We're going, now stop this!"

Tressa grinned and kissed Spectre soundly on the cheek. "You're an angel!" She then sat up and called out: "Thunderhawk! Your father changed his mind, we're going picnicking!"

A delighted cry of joy was heard, and two seconds later the young lavender boy bolted in the room and threw himself in his mother's arms. "Yes! Thank you Mom!" Thunderhawk kissed his mother on her cheek and hugged her tightly. Tressa laughed; her son had known she would "convince" Spectre to agree.

While mother and son hugged, Spectre had gotten up and had put on his pants and shirt, as well as his helmet. He was still reluctant about walking around uncovered, revealing his cybernetic limbs and spineless head, even in his own home. He buckled his belt as he rolled his red eyes. "Would you look at that. 'Thank you _Mom_'. I stink or what?" He humped and crossed his arms, grinning inwardly.

Thunderhawk laughed and walked towards his father, who picked him up. "Thank you too, Dad," the lavender boy said before pecking Spectre on the cheek. The dark echidna smiled and put his young son on the ground.

"Well, we better get ready then. Come on, we've got a picnic on our to-do list!" Spectre joked while ruffling Thunderhawk's hair. "So, where do you want to go?"

* * *

"Come on, you're too slow!" Thunderhawk shouted over his shoulder for about the tenth time in half an hour. He sighed and turned around – and sure enough here were his parents, walking side by side calmly and slowly, even a bit _too _slowly for his taste. At this rate they wouldn't reach the lake before lunchtime. "_Come on!_"

"Calm down, Thunderhawk," Spectre replied patiently. "It's not as if we were on a schedule anyway. Take it easy, son."

The boy walked over to his parents, sighing dramatically. "But Dad-" he began.

"No buts Dad. You should learn to enjoy the peace and quiet once in awhile. Come here." Spectre bent down and picked his young son up, putting him on his shoulders. Thunderhawk sat and held onto his father's helmet, putting his chin on it. "Now, is it better?"

"A little higher, but still as slow as earlier."

"Can you stop whining, for a change?"

"Nope, Dad." Spectre sighed. That had to be foreseen, like father like son. Thunderhawk had to be at least as stubborn as the black echidna, if not more. The little lavender boy could be a handful at times. "Speed up, Dad, or we won't reach the lake before lunchtime."

Spectre shifted the bag he carried on his back and put his arm around Tressa's waist. "Well, son, now that you're stuck up there, we're the only ones leading the way. I guess you'll have to wait." Spectre chuckled when he heard Thunderhawk growl. "And stop groaning, for once."

Soon – well, not soon enough for Thunderhawk – they were by the lake. The young boy jumped on the ground and took off towards the waters. He'd been told there were beautiful fishes in this lake; they said because of the Master Emerald being near, the fishes were strangely colored. Thunderhawk kneeled and literally put his head underwater to try and see some fishes.

From where they stood, his parents chuckled. Spectre put the picnic bag down on the ground and stretched out his limbs. It had done him a world of good to move around a bit, and judging by the cracks his bones made he had needed this desperately. He took a big breath and looked at the bright blue sky. Not a cloud was to be seen anywhere.

"I think this is a great day, don't you?" Spectre asked Tressa, sitting on the ground.

"Of course it is, a chance you agreed so _willingly _to go on a picnic," Tressa smirked.

"I don't see what you mean," the dark echidna said in a singsong voice before lying on the ground and putting his arms behind his head. He vaguely heard some splashing sound and assumed either Thunderhawk fell in the lake, or he was trying to catch fishes. Spectre even began dozing off, when a shadow passed over him. _I don't remember seeing any cloud… what could it be? _He opened one eye – and then widened both as he saw what was going on.

A black shuttle was landing in the lake, which explained the splashing sounds. Frightened, Thunderhawk had run back with his parents and was eyeing the ship very carefully. Spectre found himself frowning; had the Brotherhood decided to take him to Haven? He'd seen that sort of shuttle in there once, that could be it. Sighing, the black echidna got up and walked towards the ship, firmly determined to give his ancestors a piece of his mind. But when the lateral door opened, it wasn't his ancestors who got out…

Dozens of black-robed silhouettes ran out of the shuttle, laser guns in hand, and circled the Guardian family. Spectre snarled as he identified them immediately: Dark Legionnaires, soldiers from the demented and insane Enerjak. The dark echidna's fur stood on end as he firmly planted his feet in front of his wife and son, ready to protect them no matter what. "What do you want?" he growled dangerously.

Suddenly a Legionnaire raised his hand. "Capture him!"

Spectre widened his eyes as the soldiers threw themselves towards him. He fended them off with his fists and feet, doing his best to keep them a fair distance from his family. He was doing rather well, since he was outnumbered, when the same Legionnaire as earlier shouted an order and they began firing at him. Summoning his Chaos powers, he sent blasts of energy to destroy their lasers. "What in the Hells do you want from me?" he yelled, furious.

Between two energy blasts, Spectre risked a glance at Tressa and Thunderhawk, who stood behind him. This second of inattention was all the Legionnaires needed; he was hit square on the chest, and his breath caught as blood poured out and on his shirt. As he fought to breathe again, he felt a chain being thrown around his neck and someone tugged on it. Spectre stumbled, but did not fall over as the Legionnaire wished he would. Two seconds later, others chains caught his right arm and left leg; he had no choice but topple over.

As he landed on his side on the ground, Spectre saw Legionnaires gathering around him and beginning to chain him up. He struggled to break free, but one of his enemies kicked his face and sent blood flying out of his nose. The Guardian felt handcuffs being clasped around his wrists. _There's no way they're getting away with this! _Spectre summoned his Emerald powers, but nothing happened as he tried to form a blast. It was as if it had been blocked somehow – and that's when Spectre realized the handcuffs weren't only restraining his movements, but his powers as well. He was now as helpless as his son the day he was born.

Still the black echidna wouldn't give up without a fight. He trashed around, trying to kick some Legionnaires, but one of them punched his face and he abruptly lost consciousness. Spectre was knocked out cold, and he still didn't know why they'd attacked him.

* * *

The squadron leader relaxed when the Guardian lost consciousness and his men began to chain him up. Finally, this feisty bastard was taken care of. Now they better head back, and fast, or Master Kragok would think something was up.

The male saw a soldier approaching. "The Guardian is hobbled, Sergeant."

The sergeant nodded. "Carry him in the ship and be ready to take off anytime."

"What about the others, sir?" The sergeant frowned and turned to look at the light purple female and the lavender kid being held by his soldiers. Though the female was well imprisoned, the kid had managed to escape a soldier, and was now struggling to get rid of another. _Feisty kid, _the sergeant thought, smirking. _Maybe we could have him become a Legionnaire, I'm sure he has guts enough._

"Take the kid," he ordered. "We're leaving."

* * *

Soft. His head was resting on something soft and warm. He couldn't make out what it was; was it a pillow? Was he lying on a bed? No, he surely wasn't: all under him was cold and hard as metal. Why was he here? And why was his head pounding so hard it seemed like his brain would explode? _Spawn of Dimitri, what happened? _

Spectre then felt something – a hand by the feel of things – gently caress his forehead. The black echidna gritted his teeth as his injured flesh screamed in protest, but was somehow soothed by the gentle touch. He smelled blood, freshly shed blood that he could even taste on his lips. But when he tried to bring a hand up to his face, he found himself unable to do so. His hands were chained together. _Who did this to me? _he seethed inwardly. _And where the hell am I? _

"Spectre?" a voice called. It was soft, as the thing he was lying on and the hand caressing his head. "Can you hear me?"

_Who's there? _Spectre was now confused. Who was this person, a female by the sounds of it, who knew his name? What was she doing here too? All of these questions, he was about to ask them out loud when a second voice, this one belonging to a young child, made itself known. "Mom, is Dad all right?"

"Don't worry Thunderhawk, he is a bit shaken that's all."

All came back to him. The female calling him and the young boy were Tressa-Ca and Thunderhawk, his wife and his son. They'd been on a picnic when the Dark Legion attacked them… and chained him up. He could remember nothing else after that. Spectre shakily opened his eyes, and the first thing he saw was a bare grey ceiling. _I must be lying on the ground. _

His wife's face got in his field of vision, and she smiled. "Hello Spectre. How are you feeling?" He noticed his head was resting in her lap before fully registering her question. She asked him how he felt when he was chained up, bleeding and his head was throbbing as if the entire Brotherhood had run over it. He couldn't help a few chuckles that hurt his throat.

"You know," he whispered weakly. "This had to be the silliest question I've ever heard."

"If you're joking then you must be all right," Tressa smiled back.

"Dad, you scared me!" Thunderhawk squeaked from his position in Tressa's embrace, kneeling by his father. The young boy bent forwards and hugged Spectre's upper arm. "I thought you would never wake up!"

"It takes more than that to take your old father down, my boy," Spectre said, trying to joke although he was in intense pain. The black echidna then regained a serious tone as he asked: "Where are we?"

"In the shuttle they came with. You've been out all along the journey to who knows where, and we've landed about ten minutes ago. I wonder what they are waiting for." Spectre nodded half-absently, deep in thoughts. _She's right, what are they waiting for? Surely they didn't capture us for fun, there has to be something behind this. But _why _is the true question. _

The dark chained up echidna was about to tell he had no clue about that when the lateral door slid open with a hiss, and in came a tall brown-furred echidna, wearing the typical Legionnaire black robe. His left eye was cybernetic, and metal covered his cheek and his forehead. One of his spines had been cut off, probably in battle, and the others were cybernetic. On his head were some strands of dark brown hair; in all he wasn't looking friendly.

Thunderhawk backed up against his father, slightly trembling from fright. "D-dad, I'm scared," the young one whispered.

The newcomer fixed his eyes, his cybernetic one the same shade of icy blue as his natural one, on Thunderhawk. "You find me scary? You've never looked at your father closely, boy," he said in a deep menacing voice.

Spectre stiffened, because of the allusion but also because he recognized that voice. The same voice that had been giving orders during the attack. _So, this is their leader, _he thought. _Good. Now I know who I've got to deal with. _

The Legionnaire frowned upon seeing Tressa, and turned to a young soldier who was standing beside him. "Why did you take the female?" he asked dangerously low.

The soldier, although scared to death, managed to keep a calm tone of voice. "We thought you might have use of her and-"

"You fool!" the leader growled. "I didn't order you to take the female! I don't like it when my orders aren't followed! And you know what happens to those who don't follow my orders?" He didn't let the soldier time to respond and whipped out a gun, aiming for the head and firing. Blood splashed on the metallic wall and ground as the laser hit the young echidna. Tressa gasped and took Thunderhawk, who had cried out, in her arms protectively. Spectre could just stare, taken aback, as the leader casually put his gun back in his holster. The Legionnaire then spat on the steaming carcass of the former soldier echidna. "_That's _what happens when my orders aren't followed," he snorted.

Smirking, the leader turned to the Guardian family. "But after all it's not so bad. I mean, we _could _find you some use." Spectre growled low in his chest; he knew exactly what _use _this male was talking about. "Great idea in fact. Too bad I killed him, eh?"

Spectre was utterly and completely revolted. So, that was what life was like in the Legion. Killing without any second thought, on impulse, even if the being was somehow right or even innocent – after all, maybe this soldier had done nothing at all. He was jerked out of his disgusted thoughts as the leader spoke once again. "Get up. Master Kragok is waiting for you."

* * *

Spectre was walking at normal pace as he was led in the dark corridors. He had been freed, but the powers-blocking handcuffs had been left in place. _So, they're afraid after all, _he thought as he observed the two guards walking on either side of him, holding his upper arms. _They're afraid that if I tried to pull something, I couldn't be stopped. Such cowards. _Spectre earned himself two suspicious glances as he chuckled darkly.

All he could see in front of him was the sergeant's back, whose owner was striding forward effortlessly. He apparently knew where he was going, and Spectre would be worried if he wasn't angry. This man had killed in cold blood a young innocent. Legionnaire, yes, but innocent nevertheless. On top of that he was planning to harm Spectre's wife and son, who were actually being taken to a cell by a different path.

They finally stopped in front of a black-wooded door, engraved with symbols and words written in a language unknown to Spectre. The sergeant grabbed him by the handcuffs, opened the door and pulled him inside as the two soldiers stayed outside.

Spectre was thrown on his knees in front of a high-backed chair, in which a black-robed figure was sitting. The black Guardian couldn't help but growl, which earned him a whack upside the head from the sergeant. At that the figure's head raised. "Rykor, stop being rude to our guest."

Sergeant Rykor growled, but obeyed and stood back. "We captured the Guardian and brought him to you as you ordered, Master Kragok," he said. "We also captured his wife and son, who are actually in a cell."

Kragok stood up slowly and advanced towards Spectre, who growled louder with each step the heir of Dimitri took. Kragok then fell on a knee and grabbed Spectre's chin, forcing him to look up and in his eyes.

Kragok was a red-furred echidna with a cybernetic left eye, such as Rykor's, but his was red instead of blue. He carefully observed Spectre's hateful face, and held his left arm up. To the Guardian's surprise, it wasn't an arm, but a cybernetic implant with three claws on end. Then Kragok took the dark echidna's left arm, and rolled the sleeve up to reveal his mechanical limb. "You see, Guardian, we're pretty similar. And you're at least as evil as I am."

Spectre yanked his arm back to him and growled. "What do you want?"

"Good question. I was beginning to wonder if you would ever ask it. Well, Guardian, better go straight to the point: we want you to tell us where your base, Haven, is so we can attack. You better tell me now and be done with it."

"You might as well kill me right now, I won't tell anything."

"Stubborn and feisty. You could be a fine Legionnaire, too bad you aren't. Seriously now, Spectre is that it? I can wait two days or two months, but either way you'll tell me. So make the job easier and do it by yourself, like a good boy, so we won't have to make you."

"Go to hell," Spectre spat hatefully.

"First things first, boy, and I'm afraid this will have to wait a little longer." Kragok smirked darkly from under his hood. "But if you choose the hard way, then so be it. Rykor, take him to the cell his family is in. While you do that I'll go find Lien-Da; I'm sure my sister can find a way to make you spill the beans, Spectre."

Spectre had to wonder what he was up to. Whatever it was, it couldn't be good.

* * *

Tressa-Ca looked up just as the sergeant pushed her husband in the cell and departed quickly. "Spectre!" she exclaimed as he caught his balance before tripping. "What happened? What did they do to you?"

"Nothing, Tressa. They did nothing to me." Spectre sat beside his wife on the cold metal floor, and immediately Thunderhawk jumped in his lap and hugged him, sobbing. "Hey, what is the matter, son?"

"He's been like that ever since that man killed a soldier," Tressa sighed, reaching out to caress Thunderhawk's hair. "I guess he doesn't understand what happened to the young one, but he somehow knows that he'll never wake up. And he was afraid they would do the same thing to you."

Spectre nodded and wrapped his arms around his son's small body. "It's all right, Thunderhawk, I'm here. They didn't do anything to me, calm down." The dark one began running his hand up and down Thunderhawk's back soothingly, and soon enough the boy's crying was reduced to the occasional sniffle now and then. Spectre smiled weakly as Thunderhawk buried his head in his father's shirt and stayed still, curled in a ball.

"What did they want?" Tressa asked Spectre quietly as to not disturb their son.

"They want me to tell them where Haven is. But I'll burn in Hell before I let them know."

"But what will you do if they-"

"I won't tell them anything, you hear me?" he snapped. "They can rip my limbs off and tear my eyes out, they won't know a thing!" Tressa backed up a little, and Thunderhawk whimpered quietly. Spectre winced at his own words; how cold and uncaring he had sounded. It had been so uncalled for. "I'm sorry, I just don't know what's wrong with me, I-" He tried to think of an excuse, but when he found none he sighed and opened one arm. "Come here."

Tressa moved towards him and leaned against his shoulder, sliding her arms around him as he wrapped his around her waist. Spectre sighed and squeezed his wife and son for all he was worth. "It'll be all right," he whispered softly to them. "I'll find a way out of this. It'll be all right."


	2. Games

**Chapter Two : Games**

A loud banging sound was what forced Spectre's head up. There, standing just outside the cell, a red-furred female echidna stood with a whip in her hand, which had to be the reason for the sound. The dark male couldn't help but notice her outfit barely covered anything: two black leather strips crossing her chest and some shorts stopping at mid-thighs. Not that he was interested, but this was so unusual he couldn't advert his eyes.

Rykor was standing beside the female as well, and both Legionnaires wore smirks on their faces. "Hello again, Guardian," the sergeant chuckled. "I brought you some company that you may enjoy."

"Get lost," Spectre snarled. "I need no other company than the one I have right now." He squeezed Tressa and Thunderhawk close to his chest. He had a feeling this female wasn't good news for him, judging by the way she was looking at him. He quickly lost his temper when neither of his enemies budged. "I said get lost!"

"You were right, Rykor," the newcomer said. "He's cranky. But I think he's handsome, don't you?" The sergeant rolled his eyes in a don't-ask-_me-­_that way. "He looks nice, but I'm sure he looks even nicer without his clothes on." Spectre growled menacingly and clenched his flesh fist until the flesh under his thick jet black fur turned white. _How dare she even suggest something like that? _He inwardly fumed. _In front of a child, to top it off! _

The red female smirked as if she knew exactly what he was thinking, and turned to Rykor. "Rykor, can you get him out of the cell and hold him for me, please?" she asked, smiling sweetly.

The sergeant looked uneasy as he seemed to struggle with himself. "I don't know, Lady Kommissar," he stammered, hesitating. "Your brother Master Kragok forbade anyone to let him out and-"

"Please? And you know you can call me Lien-Da when we're alone," she purred. Lien-Da then seductively wrapped her arms around Rykor's neck; their chests were pressed together and their noses were almost touching. "Please, get him out for me. I promise it won't take long, and you'll be rewarded." She winked maliciously at him, and the brown male gulped.

"Well, when you put it this way… All right, but no more than a few minutes."

"Will do," the female replied as she gratefully licked the sergeant's nose. Spectre couldn't help but gag in disgust as Rykor pressed a button which deactivated the electrical bars. This woman's way of things was utterly repulsing. He could just imagine all the Legionnaires she had gotten this way.

"You're disgusting," he spat.

But Lien-Da simply smiled and winked at him. "Sometimes being the only female in this Legion has its advantages." The dark Guardian winced at the meaning of these words; and he once thought life in the Brotherhood was unbearable.

Rykor entered in the cell and quickly grabbed Thunderhawk by the scruff of his neck and yanked him out of his father's arms before Spectre or Tressa could react. As the black male jumped on his feet to help his son, Rykor simply threw the young boy against the wall. Thunderhawk gave off a squeak as he hit the hard metallic floor, and immediately Tressa took her son in her arms to protect him.

The sergeant grabbed Spectre by the handcuffs and brutally pulled him out of the cell under Tressa's worried gaze. Rykor used his foot to close the door before steadying Spectre in front of Lien-Da, whose eyes were already roaming and wandering. Spectre growled; he knew where this female was intending to go, and there was no way she would. "What are you doing?" he hissed between clenched teeth.

"Nothing at all. I'm just… well, you could say I'm testing the waters as it goes." Lien-Da got closer and ran her hand along his right arm. Spectre wanted nothing but jerk away, and he tried, he honestly tried. If it wasn't for Rykor holding him in an iron grip he would have gotten away at once. _What the hell is she trying to do? _He growled as she began caressing his back through the shirt. "All right, I think you'll do fine."

"What?" He was so taken aback it took him a few seconds to fully understanding her words.

Lien-Da got in front of him and grinned. "My brother has been bugging me for some time, now. He wants me to bear the Dark Legion's heir, because he says it's hard to find females willing to mate with a Dark Legionnaire." Spectre rolled his eyes. _Tell me about it… _"He says it'll be easier for me to find a male. And since you're here, why not?" She leaned against his chest and flicked his nose with her finger. "While I'm at it, better make it enjoyable…"

"You're sick," he growled when she began stroking his face. When her hand went to rest on his cheek he bared his teeth and bit it. Lien-Da yelped and furiously back-handed Spectre across the face. Nobody had ever slapped Spectre like that, and the dark echidna winced. Still he felt a grin form on his face; he had made her lose her temper, and that was victory enough.

"You brute!" Lien-Da hissed. She squeezed her wounded hand. "I bet your relationships are about the same," she added, throwing a dark glance in Tressa's direction, but then she smiled.

Now Spectre was really confused; what was the matter with that female? One moment ago she was furious, and now she smiled? _I'll never understand women… I swear they come from another world. _"But it's okay, sweetheart," she purred as she snapped her fingers at Rykor. The sergeant tightened his already death grip on Spectre, who now couldn't even move a finger. Lien-Da smirked and pressed herself to him to whisper in his ear. "I won't mess with your habits."

Spectre had to wonder about the meaning of these last words when Rykor roughly pulled him away and threw him back in the cell. Caught off guard, Spectre tripped and fell on the ground with a thud. He looked up to see the two Legionnaires snickering at him as he struggled to regain his feet. "And you call yourself a Guardian?" Rykor laughed as Lien-Da wrapped her arms around his waist.

Spectre groaned inwardly. _I have a feeling this stay will be long… very long…_

* * *

Night has fallen. There was no window, no opening to prove it, but night has fallen; Spectre just knew it. From where he was sitting against the metallic wall, staring at the electrical bars, Spectre somehow knew this awful day was over. Which didn't mean his problems were as well.

Sighing quietly, the dark male looked down at his son. Thunderhawk was once again nestled against his father's chest, fast asleep. He bore some bruises from hitting the wall earlier, but had kept quiet about them. Spectre knew his son didn't want to seem weak, and he ruffled the short lavender hair in sympathy. He knew exactly how it felt to be in pain when wanting to be strong. Thunderhawk shifted in his sleep, slightly pressing on Spectre's wounded chest.

The dark Guardian winced as the wound made by the laser stung once again. It felt so much like those times, when he was a child. The sleepless and pain-filled nights, clutching his burning chest as he silently prayed for death to take him away. The pain… the blood… seriously, when he'd woken up this morning, he would have never thought he would end up in such a situation. _Such Guardian… I'm supposed to protect the most powerful gem in the world, but I'm unable to protect my own family. What must my ancestors be thinking? _

Spectre decided to not think about it for now, and instead turned his attention on his wife, also sleeping. Tressa was sitting beside him, her head on his shoulder and his arm around her waist. The three echidnas had been in that position ever since Rykor and Lien-Da departed; after all, moving wouldn't help.

Spectre knew he should be sleeping as well: he needed all the rest he could get to recover from his wounds. But he just couldn't allow himself to sleep; the thought of being surrounded by enemies and that Tressa and Thunderhawk needed him forced him to stay alert. He was all they had, now, and he'll be damned before he let mere Legionnaires harm his wife and son.

A muffled clanking sound was heard from somewhere in the military complex, and Spectre found himself not caring about it. However, he looked up from Thunderhawk as Tressa stirred against him, waking up. Aqua blue eyes opened, and she smiled softly at her husband, who returned it weakly. "Hey," the female whispered as she once again leaned her head on Spectre's shoulder.

"Hey," he whispered back, kissing her temple. When Tressa seemed to be in deep thoughts, Spectre nudged her with his nose. "Penny for your thoughts?"

To his surprise she sighed and closed her eyes. He couldn't remember seeing her like this since they married, and it worried him. "Spectre, I know this isn't the place or the time, but I've got something to tell you," she said quietly. "You see, I've been meaning to tell you this for some time now. Truth is, Spectre, I…" Her voice trailed off as she seemed to struggle with herself to carry on.

The black echidna was now leaning towards her, all ears, wanting to know what she wanted to tell him. He silently encouraged her to go on, and she opened her mouth to do so when suddenly, the door of the prison bay shot open. Then the person Spectre never wanted to see ever again got in front of the cell he was in: Lien-Da. He growled and pressed Tressa against him, and Lien-Da smirked. "My, aren't we happy tonight? I'm sure you are, since I came."

"Don't dream," Spectre spat.

Lien-Da smiled even more. "That's what I thought. Anyway, my brother has asked me to… _convince you, _I think that's how he put it, to give us information."

"Go to hell, and while you're at it take your brother with you," Spectre said hatefully. This woman's nerve was really beginning to tick him off, and if she didn't stop soon someone's head was coming off. "I know what you're trying to do, and which things you're trying to get. But let me tell you; you won't have either!"

But instead of answering, Lien-Da simply made a gesture with her hand and something moved in the shadows behind her. Spectre realized with horror that it was Rykor, and the sergeant was carrying all sorts of weapons. Whips, clubs, daggers… so much things that froze Spectre's blood at first, then made it boil. _I hope for their health that they aren't planning on harming Tressa and Thunderhawk. _"What are you going to do with those?" he snarled as Tressa shuddered beside him.

"Convince you, that's what," Lien-Da said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Now be a good boy and come here by yourself."

"Like hell I will," Spectre growled. He stayed right where he was and was about to snap some more when he saw Lien-Da's gaze fall on the sleeping Thunderhawk still nestled in his arms. _What is she planning to do, now?_

"This is cute kid you've got here," the red female stated. "It would be a shame to have to scar his little face, wouldn't it?" Spectre froze as did his blood; the message was clear, if he was trying to resist or anything that sort, Thunderhawk would be the one to suffer. And he could not have that.

Spectre gently picked his son up as to not wake him up – or else the boy would freak out – and handed him to Tressa, who accepted their son in her arms. His wife looked scared, and Spectre knew it was out of fear of what was going to happen to him. He couldn't blame her, because he was at least as afraid, but he chose to not show it in front of her. Spectre gave her a reassuring smile and got up, bracing himself mentally for what he knew was coming. Rykor shut the electrical bars out, allowing Spectre to get out, and then they departed with Lien-Da holding the Guardian's handcuffs.

That left Tressa, hugging her still sleeping son to her chest as she wondered fearfully what Spectre would have to endure. _All of this wouldn't have happened if I hadn't made him agree to go picnicking. We would be home, and I would have told him about… _Her thoughts stopped there and she fought off her sobs, gently rocking Thunderhawk back and forth as she caressed his fur.

_Please… let Spectre be all right._

* * *

The room was so dark it could have put Spectre's fur to shame. It was situated just beside the prison bay, and they got into it by a small door hidden in the metallic wall. Spectre had never seen anything like this before; the room seemed to absorb whatever light there was and destroy it. It was as if all of the darkness and torment of this world was concentrated inside. And Spectre was being led in that room.

"Where are we going?" he asked nervously.

"You'll see, handsome," Lien-Da winked. He was about to snap at her when she yanked on his handcuffs, forcing him forward. "Come on; time to get the fun started…"

He heard more than he saw Rykor drop his burden on the hard metallic floor and the sergeant approached him. The Dark Legionnaire grasped Spectre's shoulders and pushed down, forcing the reluctant Guardian into a crouching position with some difficulties. Spectre heard something click, then felt Rykor remove his hands; but when the young black echidna tried to stand up, he found out he couldn't. His hands were now chained directly to the ground.

_What are they trying to do? _he thought, furious at his helplessness. But he quickly answered that question himself: Rykor carrying weapons, a dark room, him chained to the ground… It didn't take any special skill to put two and two together, and Spectre braced himself.

This way he wasn't very surprised when the whip first bit into the flesh of his back.

Spectre gritted his teeth, refusing to cry out. His muscles tensed as he fought some screams of pain. He immediately thought it would be less unbearable if he focalised his thoughts on something else than the leather strip cutting into his back. He tried to think about Tressa and Thunderhawk, his beloved wife and son… only to be reminded that they were there as well, in a cell, and it just made it worse. By the time he pondered over what to do, his clothes had been torn apart, and so had been his upper body.

The Guardian yet yelped in pain as the whip cracked across his face, leaving one long but fortunately not very deep gash there. Spectre had felt that there were spikes, sharp metallic spikes on the leather strip. The black echidna then ground his teeth once again when the next swing of the whip hit his scarred chest; he wouldn't give his captors the satisfaction to hear him scream.

Finally, the flogging stopped after fifteen awful minutes, which felt like hours to Spectre. He could actually feel blood flowing down his back, down his chest, as well as the sting of the gash on his face. The Guardian forced himself to take deep breaths to ease the firing pain, however his rest-taking was short-lived because he felt a hand grab his chin and force his head up. Spectre's bloody gaze met Lien-Da's icy blue one, and she smiled. "Well, are you ready to talk now?"

Spectre had to spit some blood out of his mouth before he could speak correctly. "You're still dreaming."

"Hmm, you're a tough one. I like that." Lien-Da racked her nails through his jet black fur. Spectre found himself unable to stop her, he was just too exhausted to do anything. "We'll take our time, then, and see how much more you can take. After all, we're in no hurry…" The red female bent forward to whisper in Spectre's ear. "I'll enjoy seeing you broken… and you'll be mine."

These words sent up red flags in the Guardian's mind, which filled up with disgust. He couldn't bear the idea of being near Lien-Da, let alone sleep with her. He even found himself wishing for the flogging to continue so the pain would get his mind off of her suggestive words.

And right on cue, it did.

* * *

Groggily, Thunderhawk opened one eye as his sleepy mind was waking up. When he saw only darkness, the boy yawned and stretched, only to feel a hand caressing his hair. He looked up, and was surprised to see his mother smiling down at him. Thunderhawk realized he was being held in her arms, curled up in her lap with his head resting against her chest. "Are you all right, sweetheart?" she gently asked him.

Drawing back a little, Thunderhawk was about to answer by the affirmative when he winced, pain flaring up in his bruised limbs. He fought off whimpers and sobs, wanting to put up a strong figure in front of his father… until he realized Spectre wasn't here. "Mom, where is Dad?"

Mother Tressa just sighed sadly and patted Thunderhawk's cheek. "He'll come back, don't worry sweetheart." But in truth, she was unsure herself.

Thunderhawk's head perked up when a blood-freezing scream was heard from the deeps of the military complex. It was short, yet pain-filled, and seemed to belong to a wounded animal. The boy shuddered. _I wonder what kind of feral beasts they keep in there. They apparently aren't treated better than we are. _

Then he began to seriously wonder… _No, it couldn't have been Dad. Dad never screams, he says it's useless. It couldn't have been him. _The hate and pain Thunderhawk could feel in the ambient air was enough to overcome his worried thoughts and he shuddered, holding onto his mother even more.

Suddenly, as if a violent gust had burst in, the door to the prison bay shot open. Mother and son were startled, and frightened when a body was thrown inside. Mother Tressa cried out when she realized it was Spectre. Thunderhawk's father was bruised, battered, and even in the dark prison bay you could make out blood flowing down his back. His eyes were closed, no breathing sounds could be heard, and for one agonizing moment Thunderhawk thought his father was dead.

That's it until Spectr released a groan and Lien-Da, having walked in seconds before, kicked him in the side. "So apart from being hot-headed and tough, you're stubborn," she snarled venomously, but with some degree of pleasure in her voice. "We'll see about that, Guardian. We'll see."

And with that she left, leaving a very triumphant Rykor put a very hurt Spectre back in his cell.

* * *

"What do you mean, 'nothing'?"

"I mean what it means: the Guardian said nothing. He's too proud and far too stubborn to give up. Rykor and I tortured him during two hours, and still he kept quiet. We got nothing out of him except a single scream. I swear, Brother, we did everything possible."

From where he was sitting in his high-backed chair, Kragok sighed and brought his hand up to massage his temples. "Well, we'll just have to give it time and he'll break eventually-"

"I don't think so, Brother," Lien-Da cut him off. "I don't think time will be our advantage. I've heard Guardians would rather kill themselves than betray their own. I think that's what he will do, even just to spite us."

"What do you suggest then?" Kragok asked. He honestly hadn't thought of this possibility, but now he found it rather believable. Guardians were such cowards such an act wasn't out of the question. "He can kill himself whenever he wants, so what is there for us to do? I don't mind him dying, after all that's what it's all about, but he has to reveal their base's location before."

"Well, from what I've seen the kid is the Guardian's son; in others words the next Guardian." Lien-Da let the meaning of her words sink in as she smirked. "We have the Guardian's lineage in our claws, which could be used as… blackmail?"

A dark grin crept across Kragok's features. "Of course, why didn't I think of it? Surely the Brotherhood may not be very concerned for Spectre, but the last of the Guardians imprisoned should get their attention. Great job, Lien, you really know how to hit where it hurts."

Lien-Da grinned. "Does that mean we're doing it?"

"Sure does. I even think I finally found a use for the Guardian's wife. Bring her to me in an hour or so; I still have to plan out." When his sister nodded and exited the room, Kragok rubbed his hands together and smirked. _I won't need Haven's location, after all. Thanks to this kid, the Brotherhood of Guardians will come to me itself. After all, they can't afford to lose their next Guardian, can they?_


	3. Family Bonds

Disclaimer: Have you ever heard of writers block? It's a very _dangerous _illness I've been having for a few days now…

**Chapter Three: Family Bonds**

Tressa-Ca the Echidna didn't know what time it was; it could have been day or night, raining or snowing, she wouldn't have cared. All that mattered to her right now was the wounded and bleeding male she was kneeling next to.

Spectre had managed to sit against the metallic wall thanks to his efforts and his wife's help. He was now conscious; awfully aware actually of the searing pain burning in his wide open wounds. The black echidna could now breathe rather normally although his head was spinning like mad. And when Tressa put a caring hand on Spectre's forehead, she found out her husband was getting a fever. She then tried to make him sleep but Spectre wouldn't allow it; either he was too worried or pain was keeping him from dozing off.

Thunderhawk wasn't helping matters. He was sitting next to Spectre against the wall, his little head resting against his father's good side. The boy was tightly squeezing Spectre's flesh hand in both of his. But Tressa couldn't blame their son for showing concern; she was at least as worried as Thunderhawk was.

"Spectre," she said softly as she slipped her hand behind his head to relieve his tired neck. She inwardly winced when she felt the torn and raw flesh under her fingers, but Tressa cast that thought aside and gently smiled. "You should really sleep, now. You need rest."

Spectre only managed to grunt something, but Tressa knew him enough to know it had been a negative response. She sighed; she'd known, long before they even married, that Spectre was stubborn when it came to important things. That was a part of him she had learned to appreciate at times and dislike at others such as now.

As for Spectre… let's say he was in a semi-conscious state. Part of him wanted to sleep and possibly never wake up whereas another screamed at him to stay awake and alert – though he couldn't do much in this state were their captors to come back. He just _had _to protect Tressa and Thunderhawk, he had sworn it many times and not only in his marriage vows. And it wouldn't be told he had given up without a fight.

The black male closed his tired eyes just as the now all too familiar sound of a metallic door sliding open was heard. Spectre couldn't help but groan, for he knew without his sight who was now standing in front of the cell. As Tressa softly shushed her husband down, Lien-Da began to speak. "So, handsome, still recovering?" She giggled when the said echidna growled. "That's what I thought. But anyway I'm not here for you this time."

Spectre didn't even have time to register what she had said: the red female was in the cell in an instant, and grabbed Tressa's arm.

"Come on, pretty face. My brother wants to see you."

Spectre growled menacingly as Thunderhawk clung to him even more, frightened. He had the feeling he knew what Kragok wanted to see Tressa for, yet he couldn't do much in his current state. Spectre's anger grew, directed towards himself and his helplessness. Even lifting a hand to cradle his son's head was causing him intense pain.

Tressa followed Lien-Da with no resistance; she knew that if she refused to cooperate, the female Legionnaire would take her anger out on Spectre and Thunderhawk. So she just compelled, trying not to look back at the two boys she loved more than anything else in the world. The female kept telling herself she was protecting them; but still, as she stepped out of the cell, she stopped dead in her tracks and turned. Tressa saw her lavender boy nestled in Spectre's clothes and looking up at his father. "Dad, is Mom going to be all right?"

Spectre never answered. He just put his hand on his son's head and stared at his wife. Tressa gave him a weak smile before she was roughly pulled out of the prison bay.

That's when she felt fear. Fear of what Kragok wanted to see her for.

* * *

As soon as Tressa-Ca was out of the prison bay, Thunderhawk closed his eyes and buried his head in Spectre's side, squeezing his father's black robes for all he was worth.

Spectre found himself unable to comfort his son; telling him things would be all right would be lying, but the Guardian couldn't bring himself to voice dark thoughts now. So he just caressed Thunderhawk's back and head soothingly. "Ssh, calm down, son," Spectre whispered softly.

"What are they going to do to Mom?" the boy whimpered. "I'm scared, Dad. I-I just don't want Mom to get hurt! What are they going to do, Dad?"

Spectre was about to answer on impulse when he suddenly remembered that Thunderhawk was only six years old. Almost seven. And his innocent soul had already seen so much awful things it would be the last straw to tell him what an evil male would want to do when alone with a female. "I don't know, Thunderhawk," he reluctantly lied. "I really don't know."

"But… these two soldiers… What did they want from you, Dad?"

Spectre winced; he'd seen that question coming from a mile away. "Nothing, son. They just wanted me to tell them where Haven is, that's all." He decided not to add anything about Lien-Da wanting to sleep with him and instead set for a weak smile. "But they couldn't make it through your old man."

A brief smile flashed across the boy's features, but then he nodded and closed his eyes once again. Spectre ran his flesh fingers through Thunderhawk's dark lavender hair. His son should as well sleep, he needed all the rest he could get.

But then the metallic door slid open with a mechanical hiss. _Can't they lock that thing for Edmund's sake? _To Spectre's dismay this was Lien-Da once again… only now she was alone. "Where is Tressa?" he asked angrily.

"Your whore? She's with my brother." The red female smirked evilly. "The lucky dog. Kragok might just get some Legionnaires to come over."

Spectre felt rage beginning to built up in his heart, but he decided not to lash out in front of Thunderhawk, who was now awake and staring rather nervously at Lien-Da. Although he was utterly furious and disgusted he managed to keep up a stoic face. Only his bloody red eyes reflected the rage he felt within.

Lien-Da looked down at Thunderhawk, now frowning. "I'm still wondering how you were able to have a kid, Spectre. Is your female blind or something?"

Spectre growled and pulled his young son even closer. "Well, at least _I _was and am able to have and love a child. Which isn't the same for everybody as it seems."

"This can be easily corrected, Guardian."

"Not even in your wildest dreams," Spectre hissed.

"Dad, what is she talking about?" Thunderhawk asked innocently as he looked up at his father.

"Nothing worth your attention, my son," Spectre said rather calmly considering the situation. He released the iron-like grip he didn't know he's been maintaining on Thunderhawk. "You can sleep. I won't let her do you any harm, I promise."

The young echidna, although eyeing Lien-Da from the corner of his eye, rested his little head on his father's chest and attempted to sleep. Lien-Da smiled in mock awe. "Isn't it cute? A real father-son moment. The boy is so naïve he believes every word his father tells him. Hmm, I wonder what it would be like to hold him and pat him," she suddenly said.

"If you lay a finger on him, you're dead," Spectre spat protectively. He couldn't bear the thought of that… madwoman mistreating his son. Or abusing him for that matter.

"Like you can do something to stop me."

"Haven't you got someone else to bother? Why don't you go and "have fun" with some Legionnaire?" Now Spectre was literally fuming with rage; they could do whatever they wanted to him but Chaos help them if they dared to touch his Thunderhawk.

"Nope, I'll wait until Kragok is done with your female then we'll see," she smirked.

Thunderhawk squeezed his father's arm harder; he hadn't quite understood what that woman had said, but from the way Spectre stiffened he could tell it was bad. Very, very bad.

* * *

There are different kinds of bombs. First there is the one that blows up immediately, powerfully deadly. This one causes surprise and pain, although sometimes the first overcomes the second and when you realize what's happening, it's already too late.

Then, there is the one that takes its time, as deadly as the previous one but more painful. It eats you up slowly, ever so slowly, until the suffering leaves you begging or dying. Or both.

Finally, there is the vicious one. You know it's there, somewhere, but you don't know where nor when it's going to blow up. Worst of all, you know that you will feel pain, when the time comes, but the problem is, you don't know when and it frightens you. No matter how long you wait, you don't know when until you die.

The latest could apply to the situation Tressa-Ca was in. She was actually standing in a dark room, as she has been doing since Lien-Da led her in, fifteen minutes before. The darkness was so thick she couldn't make out walls, furniture, or anything else for that matter. Surely nobody was there, this was just another trick to scare her and-

"Hello, my dear," a deep raspy voice suddenly said from somewhere to her left. Tressa jumped nearly out of her skin at the voice and turned around, scanning the darkness but still unable to see through it.

"Who is there?" she asked in a frightened voice. She began fidgeting nervously when she heard feet padding on the ground and clothes rustling. Somebody else was there, but she couldn't see where he – a male certainly, by the sounds of it – was. She knew nothing about him, expect for the fact that he was Lien-Da's brother. "Who are you?"

"That, my female friend, is none of your business," the voice sweetly said. The male seemed closer now.

"I think it is," Tressa retorted, determined not to let herself be scared off. "After all you dragged me here and I'd like to know who you are, and why I am here." She did her best to hide her fear but her voice still held some hints of her frightened state.

"Because I need you, dear," the guttural voice growled right in her right ear. She gave off a startled cry at the proximity of the male, but then felt two hands circle her waist and held her in place. No wait… not two _hands… _a hand and some mechanical implant. "You're the only one who can do what I have planned."

The female took a big breath to try and calm down. She had the horrible feeling she knew what he had planned to do. Tressa was about to push him away to escape when he spoke again. "No, dear, I know what you are thinking. I won't lower myself to that, mark my words." Tressa felt relieved but confused at the same time; what did he want then? "However there are others who might, so you have better obey my orders for your sake."

An uncomfortable silence set in the dark room, and Tressa could almost hear the grin in the male's words when he pursued. "Very well. Now listen carefully; I want you to go back to wherever Haven is. And no, I haven't placed any sensor on you, I won't track you down to know where that forsaken base is. I don't need to. I just want you to inform the Brotherhood of Guardians that I have their current Guardian and his offspring in my clutches. Yes, you have understood, I will force the Brotherhood to reveal itself to me unless they want their Guardians killed."

Tressa asked the first thing that came to her mind: "Will you harm Spectre and Thunderhawk if I do as you tell?" But she then realized the full stupidity of that question; if the Legion wanted to capture the entire Brotherhood of Guardians it certainly wasn't to go on a picnic… no the Dark Legion wanted to kill the Guardians. All of them, and her husband and son were no exception. Which was how she could tell her captor's next words were lies.

"Of course, my dear, I won't even lay a finger on them. You have my words. But if the Brotherhood is not mine within the week, they're both as good as dead. Make sure you tell the others Guardians that as well."

The door opened, bringing in little light, and the Legionnaire released the grip he had been maintaining on Tressa. And before she was out, she heard his deep voice again. "Remember… Within the week;"

* * *

Two days. Spectre couldn't believe it has been two whole days since they were captured. Besides his injuries the Guardian mainly suffered from boredom and anguish; after all he still didn't know what had happened to Tressa-Ca. Not to mention Thunderhawk was more nervous than ever, and couldn't help but squeak each time a Legionnaire entered in the prison bay.

But all of these times, nothing ever happened. Still recovering from his two days old wounds, Spectre wondered why they had stopped torturing him all of the sudden. Not that he minded, far from it actually, but he thought maybe this had something to do with Tressa's disappearance. _Maybe they're torturing her instead of me, _he thought angrily. _Those ill-brained bastards! Wait until I get my hands on them and I'll-_

_And you'll what? _another voice, older than his own, rang in his head. It seemed familiar, and Spectre's eyes lit up when he recognized it.

_Grandfather Rembrandt! Is it really you?_

_You bet it is. Now listen; you're going to tell me exactly where you are and things will be all right._

Spectre frowned in confusion. The mental link was so strong and clear it sounded like his fifth-father was standing only some feet away from him. _Fifth-father, what do you mean? You can't possibly be… around here, right?_

_I'll explain later, for now just… oh crap…_

As the mental contact broke, Spectre heard a commotion from outside the prison bay; shouts, gunshots and screams. He could as well hear some Legionnaires hurrying down the corridor, with soft or metallic padding of feet depending on the person. The dark male caught some orders being yelled by a high-ranked soldier, then several gunshots rang through all the base only to stop brutally.

Spectre winced inwardly. _Please, don't let it be Fifth-father… Oh please don't let it be him… _But his prayers stayed unanswered as, seconds later, the mechanical door of the prison bay slid open to allow entrance to two Legionnaires… carrying one wounded and bleeding Rembrandt. Thunderhawk gasped upon seeing his ancestor who was roughly pushed in the cell next to Spectre and Thunderhawk's. "That makes another Guardian," a Legionnaire smirked. "At that rate we'll have the others by the end of the week for sure!"

"You bet," the other replied. They burst out laughing a very creepy laugh as they walked off.

Spectre struggled his way to the bars in between his and Rembrandt's cells. Fortunately, those weren't electrical; what use would it be anyway? The dark male grasped the metallic bars and looked at his fifth-father. The said echidna was currently lying on his left side, facing him. Blood was flowing out of his mouth and from a wound to his right shoulder, probably caused by some gunshot Spectre had heard earlier. The red liquid was quickly forming a big pool on the hard metallic floor, which alarmed Spectre. "Fifth-father," he called, panic edging in his voice. "Fifth-father, please wake up! Come on, open your eyes!"

The elder male seemed to hear him because after a few seconds he weakly opened one eye. "Spectre?" he whispered. "Is that you? Edmund, my head hurts." Rembrandt winced and tried to sat up, which he managed to do after some struggling. He brought his hands to his head and massaged his skull. "That darn Legionnaire knocked me out before I had the chance to do anything. I guess I'm just getting old."

"No, Fifth-father, you're not getting old. They're just much younger, that's all," Spectre responded, offering a weak smile to accompany his lame attempt at humor.

"Whatever you say. It's a pity I got caught, though, it'll take me longer to get all of us out of there."

"How did you know we were there?" Spectre asked seriously as Thunderhawk came to sit next to his father. "And most of all, why are you alone?"

"Well, the Brotherhood got your wife's message, so I was pretty sure I would find you there. And I'm alone because the others wouldn't come; you know your grandfathers, they don't want to "put themselves into trouble" as they like to put it. They didn't believe for one second that the Dark Legion would actually kill you, but I can assure you I know better-"

"Hold on, hold on," Spectre said, raising a hand. "My wife's message? What do you mean?"

"It's as simple as that; yesterday Tressa-Ca arrived in Haven and filled us in about what had happened to you," Rembrandt explained very quickly, making big gestures with his hands. "How come you didn't know?"

"You mean, she's at Haven? Safe and secure?" Spectre felt a burst of hope in his heart: Tressa was all right!

Rembrandt blinked a few times and leaned forwards a little. "Do I have to spell it out to you, Fifth-son?"

The dark Guardian released a deep relieved sigh as Thunderhawk grinned. "Mom is all right!" the boy said happily. "You heard that, Dad, Mom is all right! Is she hurt? Is she still in Haven?" the lavender echidna asked his sixth-father.

"You'll see for yourself in a few hours, for I have come to get you – actually us, but I didn't plan to get caught – out of there." At his sons' confused stares Rembrandt brought a pack out of his vest pocket. "I may not be a professional, but I learned enough from Hawking to know how to deactivate an electrical shield. Trust me and in a few seconds we'll be out and escaping."

As his fifth-father fumbled in his miniature pack to find the tool he needed, Spectre looked at him in confusion. One hour ago he thought everything was lost and had no hope left, and now he was told Tressa was safe and that there was a way to escape. No, it couldn't be, there had to be a catch. "And how are you planning to escape? We can't possibly casually walk out of there without getting caught."

"I'm aware of that," Rembrandt answered as he finally gave up on fumbling and emptied the pouch's content onto the floor. Scanning the scattered tools, he picked up a wire-cutter and some laser metal-cutter. Spectre watched as his ancestor made his way towards the wall. "There is an emergency exit just a few feet down the corridor, to the left. It leads to a forest, where we could easily lost pursuers should we need it. As for the Legionnaires in the corridor, I can only sense three of them, maybe four. All we have to do is blast them and off we go."

Spectre called on his Emerald powers, and nodded when he only felt three Legionnaires keeping guard in the corridor. "Those crazed fools," he heard Rembrandt chuckle. "What good could it do them to have the best technology ever imagined of the world if they leave control panels _inside _the cells." Rembrandt chuckled some more and turned his laser on and began cutting something on the wall. Now that Spectre realized it there was one small panel, hardly the size of his hand, on the metallic wall. He quickly scanned his own cell and soon found a similar panel, this one on the ground in the corner.

After some time of cutting, Rembrandt turned the laser off and detached a rectangular piece of metal from the wall. He gathered his tools and held out his wire-cutter before grinning in Spectre and Thunderhawk's direction. "Gentlemen, liberty is ours." Grasping his wounded shoulder to support his right arm, Rembrandt leaned over the bunch of multicolored wires that were once hidden under the panel. But then he frowned and studied the wired more closely. "Looks like I talked too fast once again."

"What? What's wrong?" Spectre asked, concerned.

"I can't deactivate all of the electrical shields from here. Apparently each shield is controlled individually from the cell it circles. I can't deactivate your shield by deactivating my own."

"That's not a real problem, you'll just have to give me your tools and I'll take care of the shield in my cell," Spectre suggested.

"I'm afraid you won't be able to," Rembrandt said slowly. "I see there that the red wire is the one controlling the shield system. Unfortunately, it is also part of the alarm system, so if I cut the red wire…"

"You'll turn alarms on," Spectre finished for him, losing hope once again.

"Not exactly," his fifth-father corrected him. "The alarm system is so important it is divided into two wires. By cutting one of them, I'm messing with the alarms' time of reaction. Which means alarms will rang at any moment. We would be out and already far away when they do as well as I wouldn't be able to deactivate your shield." Rembrandt sadly turned towards Spectre. "I don't know if it's a risk worth taking."

"Every risk is worth taking, now," Spectre muttered. "Do your best."

Rembrandt nodded and got back to work. In two snips the electrical shield was taken care of, and the brown echidna took a deep breath. "Now the real challenge begins." He promptly took his laser once again and began to cut one of the non-electrified bars. _One should do it, I'm not that fat. _Stressed out, and while seconds were elapsing in his mind, Rembrandt managed to cut the bar in ten minutes. "It'll be tough, but I think I'll have time to disconnect your shield as well."

But as the elder echidna walked towards the in between bars of the two cells, sparks began to crept out of the cut down wires. Rembrandt gave off an alarmed look and nervously turned to Spectre. "Me and my big mouth. The alarms will turn on anytime now."

To his amazement, Spectre only nodded calmly. How his fifth-son managed to keep a straight face when everything was crumbling down was beyond him. "All right. Run away, Fifth-father, but I ask you a favor." Spectre kneeled and placed his hands on Thunderhawk's shoulders. "Take my son with you."

The dark male pushed the lavender boy forward, and Thunderhawk amazingly was able to slip between two bars being small and thin. He landed right into Rembrandt's arms without registering what had happened, and turned to his father with surprise on his face. "Dad?"

"Take him home, Fifth-father," Spectre said calmly.

"I can't leave you alone here, Spectre!" Rembrandt replied, holding Thunderhawk close. "I promised myself I would bring you back home! I promised myself I wouldn't let another member of my family die like Aaron and Jordan did!"

"And I promised myself I wouldn't let my son die," Spectre whispered quietly. He looked down, but when he raised his eyes towards Rembrandt, they held no fear, no weakness. Just plain and hard determination. "Both of you escaping is better than the three of us dying. Go, Grandfather, and tell Tressa I love her."

Thunderhawk, still in Rembrandt's arms, listened to the exchange between the two males and suddenly got scared. "Dad, what are you saying? You're coming with us, right? Dad, please answer me!"

But Spectre wouldn't look at Thunderhawk. He didn't want to see the boy's crystal blue eyes filling up with tears because it might make him shed a few of his own. He knew it was probably the last time they could see each other, that he would probably die at the Legionnaires' hands, but he faced it bravely. Isn't it what a Guardian is supposed to do?

"Goodbye, Fifth-father," he said finally. "And probably farewell."

Rembrandt nodded gravely but as he walked out of his cell towards the mechanical door Thunderhawk began to struggle. "We can't leave him here! Dad, no!" The lavender young echidna began sobbing when his father didn't respond and when his grandfather tightened his hold on him. "Dad, I don't want to leave! I want to stay with you, please Dad listen to me! Dad!"

But his calls were suddenly cut when an awfully loud siren rang through the base. Rembrandt stifled some curses under his breath and, wasting no time, blasted the metallic door away. The last thing Spectre saw of them were Rembrandt's back and Thunderhawk's pleading eyes. The dark male let his head fall in his hands as soon as his grandfather and his son were out of the prison bay. He heard some energy blasts being delivered by Rembrandt, and some strangled noise emitted by Legionnaires as they died. Bodies fell to the ground, and Spectre intercepted screams, shouts, then finally a huge metallic clang.

The Guardian grinned in his hands; his ancestor had blasted the exit door.

Just outside the prison bay, Legionnaires were running wildly as the siren kept on screaming. Spectre caught fragments of phrases such as "He's getting away!" or "After him!", but he wasn't phased by them. He knew his fifth-father and his son were already far, far away from the Dark Legion.

As his grin widened, Spectre chuckled. Hell was over for his wife and son, but had just begun for him.


	4. Unleashed

Disclaimer: Usual applies.

**Chapter Four: Unleashed**

Rykor was the first one to waltz in the prison bay, furious and yelling at the top of his lungs. "What in the Seven Hells happened here?" He froze in place when he noticed Rembrandt's former cell's shield was deactivated, and the brown echidna was nowhere to be seen. He spotted Spectre, sitting calmly in his own cell. "Answer me! What happened?" he barked.

When Spectre didn't answer, Rykor growled furiously and angrily deactivated the Guardian's electrical bars. He stormed in the cell and grabbed the younger one by his shirt, lifting him to eye level. "This is your last chance before I lose my temper. What happened here? Where are the two others?"

"Gone," Spectre simply said, staring off into space.

"Gone?" Rykor barked as he began to shake Spectre back and forth. "What do you mean, _gone? _Where did they go?" The dark male stayed silent which only served to further anger the sergeant. "Answer, you damned son of a bitch!"

_Crack! _The hand whipped Spectre's face brutally and the Guardian was thrown back onto the ground. He felt his teeth shake and repressed a yelp of pain when his wounds hit the metallic floor, hard. "If Lady Kommissar hadn't ordered to keep you alive you'd be dead by now!" Rykor spat. "It's a shame I'm unable to kill you, but I'll make sure you pay dearly for your companions' departure. Just you wait." And with that the sergeant stormed off, probably to find Lien-Da or Kragok, who knew.

Spectre just laid there, unmoving, as his eyes closed. It was just a matter of time until Lien-Da got her hands on him; all he could do was waiting. But for now he feared no nightmares: Thunderhawk and Rembrandt had escaped.

* * *

"Where is he?" Moonwatcher growled. "Where is that lame and stupid excuse of a Guardian?"

"Don't ever speak of my son this way!" Harlan replied. He gave his father a hard glare and focalised his attention back on the surveillance screens. "I suppose he went to help Spectre and Thunderhawk, as he said we ought to do."

"That's what I said. Lame and stupid."

"He did what he thought was right," Harlan said through gritted teeth. He hated it when his father Moonwatcher spoke of Rembrandt like that. True, ever since Jordan and Aaron had died the brown echidna hadn't been the same, but he couldn't blame him. Who would be after witnessing the death of his two sons?

"I know he did, son, but that's still stupid. Do you realize he went alone to fight against the whole Legion? Are you crazy enough to even _think _he will succeed?" Moonwatcher crossed his arms and laid against a metallic desk. "Not that I doubt your son's capacities or anything, but that's a bit too much if you ask me. At best he will be captured and tortured, at worst we'll have to build another grave. What's in for us?"

"Moonwatcher, the current situation is not your son's fault," Steppenwolf said calmly as he entered in the surveillance room. "Don't take your anger out on him."

"If he had raised his son to know better than run off alone to face the enemies I wouldn't," Moonwatcher grumbled.

"Well, _Father, _if you weren't bugging him every second of his life maybe he would have thought about it and reconsidered," Harlan shouted back, turning away from the screens.

"Well, _son, _I wouldn't be bugging him if he behaved the way a Guardian has to!"

"Oh, and you sure are an expert in that field! Sorry, I forgot you were irreproachable!"

"Don't raise your voice, son, not with me!"

"I raise my damn voice if I damn want to!" Harlan yelled, jumping to his feet. His father was quick to bite back something at him, and the fight went on from there.

Steppenwolf sighed and took the seat Harlan had left vacant. Things had been pretty much like this ever since the Brotherhood had found out Rembrandt was missing, the previous night. Harlan and Moonwatcher, who under normal circumstances were on good terms, kept going at each other's throat for no reason, and about topics Steppenwolf thought were ridiculous. And no was no exception.

"We wouldn't be in this mess if you had raised your parental skills to a minimum!" Moonwatcher hissed, nose to nose with his son.

"Well, _excuse me, _but I hadn't had the best father to begin with!" Harlan growled back. "I did my best with Rembrandt, and I think _that _is even more than half the things you did to bring me up! How could Mother stand you is beyond me!"

Edmund's son shook his head. Normally, he would have laughed at the situation and the topic, but things weren't funny: the two echidnas were serious. Dead serious, which annihilated any funny feeling.

"Would you two just shut up!" Steppenwolf shouted, his patience finally wearing off. But his two relatives never heard him or just ignored his call. "Ripping each other's eyes out won't solve anything! It won't bring back Spectre and Thunderhawk, and it won't make Rembrandt change his mind! Now stop or I'll be glad to add two brand new graves to the three ones we already have!"

At this Harlan and Moonwatcher stopped short; Steppenwolf never, ever mentioned his father's death, and even less used it in a threat. Same thing for Aaron and Jordan; Steppenwolf was very respectful of them. So hearing him talk about them like this had only one meaning: his nerves were wrecked and pushed over the edge. His sons often forgot he was very old, and patience isn't always something owned by a one hundred and ninety-seven years old echidna.

"Father…" Moonwatcher breathed.

"No. Don't talk, don't say anything. I have had it, just shut up." Steppenwolf leaned back in his seat, running his hands over his face. "Can't you two try to understand Rembrandt? You don't know how it feels to lose someone you love, and then know there are others who might die. Instead of fighting and rejecting the fault on someone else, you should be helping Rembrandt!"

"I think that won't be necessary," Harlan said in a calm tone.

"I beg your pardon?" Steppenwolf asked, blinking.

His grandson motioned to one of the surveillance screens. "My son managed to come back on his own… and he has Thunderhawk with him." Steppenwolf's head whipped around – and sure enough, Rembrandt could be seen running on one screen, carrying Thunderhawk in his arms.

Then he frowned. "Where is Spectre?"

* * *

"I couldn't save him," Rembrandt exhaled as his father led him to the sick bay. "I had no more time, and then the alarms went off and Legionnaires came from everywhere and-"

"Second-son, calm down," Moonwatcher said. "Take a breath, then you will talk." The red echidna had Thunderhawk in his arms. The young one appeared to be unharmed except for a few scratches and bruises, but the thing that worried Moonwatcher was his tear-strained face. From what he had heard Moonwatcher knew Thunderhawk wasn't the crying type, so there had to be a good reason for his tears.

By now they had reached the sick bay, where Hawking was waiting with bandages and cleaning equipment ready. Harlan pushed Rembrandt on one of the beds, while Moonwatcher gently set Thunderhawk down on another. "Now, talk. What happened?"

Rembrandt explained how he found Thunderhawk and Spectre, and tried to escape with them but ended up with only Thunderhawk out of the Dark Legion's base. "Spectre told me to go with his son," he whispered as Hawking bandaged the wound a Legionnaire had inflicted him while he was escaping. "I couldn't save him and now he's alone. I will never forgive myself…"

"Don't be too hard with yourself," Harlan told him. "It's a miracle you managed to get back with Thunderhawk alive. By the way, Hawking," – the brown echidna raised his eyes – "could you call Tressa-Ca? Inform her that her son has come back." Hawking nodded and walked out of the infirmary, probably to find a communicator.

"What will we tell her about Spectre?" Rembrandt asked.

"Nothing. That way she won't lose hope, but we won't give her false hopes neither," Steppenwolf said, thinking fast.

A few minutes later Hawking returned. "I called Tressa-Ca and sent Mathias to get her. She will arrive at Haven soon. And I… I met Tobor too."

"Where is he, then?" Moonwatcher asked. "Didn't you tell him his grandson is back? Doesn't he know that his own son is still captive?"

"Yes, he does," Hawking stammered. "And I told him for Thunderhawk. But…"

"But what?" Apparently Hawking was embarrassed, and Moonwatcher wanted to know why. "For Edmund's sake, speak up, boy!"

Hawking finally indulged. "He… he said he had better things to do."

* * *

"You mean you let them escape?" a brown echidna whispered dangerously into one of Haven's communicators. "How could you be so stupid?"

"I'm terribly sorry, Lord Moritori," a voice answered. "The Guardian was too strong and we were unable to win against him although he was outnumbered. That's why Lord Kragok ask you to avenge us."

"Avenge you? And how will I do that?"

"Lord Kragok didn't mention anything in special, he just said you could do whatever you wanted to make the Guardian Spectre's family pay."

"Whatever I want? Now this is interesting." Moritori Rex smirked to himself and chuckled. He had a vague idea of what he could begin with. "Tell Lord Kragok… that I'll do as I'm told."

_And the Guardians won't be the only ones to suffer…_

* * *

One hour later Mathias was back with Tressa-Ca, who ran to her son and hugged him for all she was worth. This had only been two days since they were separated, Rembrandt wouldn't dare to think of what her reaction would be if she hadn't seen Thunderhawk for months.

"Mom!" the young one exclaimed as he threw his own arms around his mother. "I knew you were all right! I told Dad you were all right!" Then the child's smile fell at once. "Oh, Dad! Dad is still trapped, Mom! And the bad guys harmed him too, and- Mom why are you crying?"

"Nothing, Thunderhawk." Tressa cracked a weak smile and wiped her tears, hugging her son even tighter. "I'm just glad you are safe, that's all." She pulled Thunderhawk closer and the lavender echidna nestled his muzzle in her shoulder.

"I don't like it when you cry," he whispered. "Dad says that a girl should never cry."

Smiling a little, Tressa-Ca turned her head towards Rembrandt, who was sitting on a bed. "And Spectre? How is he?"

The elder echidna sighed. "From what I saw, he was in a bad shape. Not critical, but if the Legion keeps this up it will be. I'm sorry, Tressa-Ca, I couldn't save him. If it wasn't for him not even Thunderhawk would be there."

"He's right," the young Guardian piped in. "Dad gave me to Grandfather then we escaped. I didn't want to leave Dad, Mom, I promise! But he made me." Tressa could see her son was feeling guilty for "abandoning" his father to his fate although he had nothing to do with it.

She softly caressed Thunderhawk's hair. "I know, baby, don't worry. I believe you." Her worried eyes once again fell upon Rembrandt. "Do you think there is a chance for him to escape?"

"I'll do my best to bring him back home, Tressa-Ca," Rembrandt solemnly swore. "I can't promise to do so within the next hours or days, but Spectre will soon be back. I'll have to think up of a plan because now, the Legion will probably strengthen its guard over Spectre. I'll need a strategy, material means and," he glanced in his relatives' direction "and help."

"You can count on me," she affirmed, and Rembrandt smiled.

"I know I can."

* * *

Darkness. Pain and darkness. Those were Spectre's only companions as he stood in his new cell. _Funny, _he thought, _how the word "new" means a thing that has never been used before. This cell looks like a dozen people have been slaughtered in it. _He looked around, trying to find if that dark mark on the wall was a burn or some blood.

From his position, shackled to the hard metallic wall, he couldn't very well tell. But then again, it didn't matter, for his own blood was probably soon going to coat these hard walls. His only relief was that Rembrandt and Thunderhawk had made it and were now safe. He could rest in peace knowing that.

Spectre's calm state of mind was brutally broken when the door to his cell, now a heavy metallic door, opened and a brief ray of light came in. A shadow entered in the cell, and the door closed swiftly once again.

The Guardian didn't even look up. "I was beginning to worry. I thought you had forgotten you had a prisoner to torture."

Lien-Da laughed darkly. "No need to be sarcastic, Spectre. You know I would ever forget you." When all she got was silence, she pursued: "Admit it, Spectre. Don't act all tough and admit it."

Spectre raised his eyes quizzically and saw Lien-Da suggestively make her way towards him. The restrained echidna growled, but he could do nothing shackled to a wall. "Despite your reluctant cover, I know that deep down, you want me." Her hand caressed his scratched cheek, and she grinned wolfishly. "And soon enough you will learn to love me."

"So you're back with that," Spectre growled, jerking his head away from her offending hand. She was much too close for his taste; so close in fact that he could feel her breath on his fur. And when he felt Lien-Da's hand on his waist, he thanked Chaos that neither Thunderhawk or Tressa was there to see him.

"They always go by pair, you know," the red female whispered. "Day and night. Life and death. Love and lust."

"No," he snapped angrily. "If there's lust then there is no love. I love Tressa because I care for her, because I like the way she is. I do desire her in a way, but it isn't lust. Lust is what allowed you to trick every single male Legionnaire here into sleeping with you and-" But Spectre never got the chance to finish his sentence; Lien-Da's hand cracked across his face like a whip, and his already damaged flesh screamed in protest.

"You should be thankful you're handsome; you would be missing an arm now if you weren't," she growled menacingly. But almost immediately the Legionnaire smiled and ran her hand – the one that seconds before had slapped the Guardian – through his dark fur. "In fact, I don't care. You're right, after all, but you will succumb as well. Just you wait."

_Just you wait. _The same phrase Rykor had said before leaving Spectre alone in his cell. A phrase that held many meanings. And as Lien-Da exited the cell, the black echidna sighed and let his head fall upon his chest.

He had been right. It was blood on the wall.

* * *

Family. Such a random word, isn't it? 


	5. Bitter Revenge

Disclaimer: Usual applies.

WARNING: Mature content in this chapter. Moritori fans (if they even exist…), go away!

**Chapter Five: Bitter Revenge**

Two days later. Things weren't getting any better, although Rembrandt was constantly building up new plans. At any moment, day and night, he could be seen writing or thinking, already imagining Spectre's rescue. Although he had begged his relatives to help him, they were still reluctant; going up against the whole Legion was, to them, suicidal.

And indeed it was, but Rembrandt was so caught up he didn't even realize that fact.

* * *

Tressa-Ca smiled down at her sleeping son, snuggled up in his bed, and gently caressed his head. It was getting harder to make Thunderhawk go to bed; the boy wanted to know when his father was coming home, and she didn't have the heart to tell him what she thought. Spectre wouldn't come back soon.

Tressa bent down and softly kissed Thunderhawk's forehead before tiptoeing out of the bedroom. Closing the door, she sighed to herself as she made her way to her own bedroom. The house had become much quieter, since Thunderhawk had stopped laughing and running around. Her nights had become much colder, since there was no one in her bed who could hold her and kiss her. The one she loved was gone, and she feared he would never return.

Holding back desperate tears, Tressa got in her room and changed in her nightgown. Running her hand over the light clothe, the female echidna smiled. Spectre still didn't know why she had bought a nightgown way too large for her, but she did. She sat on the edge of the bed and brought her hands up to rest upon her stomach. Under normal circumstances, Spectre would have known… But unfortunately, these circumstances were far from normal. "Oh, Spectre," Tressa whispered. "What am I going to do without you?"

"That's a good question," a cold voice answered from the darkness.

Tressa's head shot up; she hadn't realized someone else was there as well. It didn't even occur to her to ask how the intruder had managed to come in, her mind was too surprised to do so. She then tried to identify the newcomer; at first all she saw was a red line, but then the person walked into the light produced by her nightstand lamp, and she could tell who it was. Tobor, Spectre's father.

"You scared me, Tobor," she said, still suspicious although relieved. What was he doing here at such an hour? Surely even Guardians had to sleep. "What did you come for?"

"To answer your previous question," Tobor simply said, leaning against a wall. When Tressa gave a confused look, he pursued: "I want show you some of the things you can do while Spectre isn't here."

"Well, I'm very thankful, Tobor, but I don't think now is the time to go anywhere. Thunderhawk is asleep, I can't leave him alone and-"

"Who said we had to go anywhere? Here is as fine as any other room," Tobor said, slowly walking towards the female, who had gotten up.

Tressa frowned as she took a step away from the smirking male. "I'm afraid I don't see what you mean."

"You will soon, don't worry," Tobor growled under his breath. When he was within reaching range, Tressa once again backed away from him, afraid now that she knew what was happening.

"What do you want from me?" she asked, her voice tainted with fear.

"That's just it: I want you." Tressa gasped as he went on. "Now that Spectre is gone, why not be together? After all, Thunderhawk needs a father, and I'm sure you'll learn to find me pleasant."

When Tobor reached a hand to touch her cheek, Tressa slapped it away angrily. "What do you think you are doing? In case you forgot, Spectre is your son, and Thunderhawk your grandson. I love Spectre, and not you!"

"That can be easily corrected." Suddenly, Tobor grabbed her upper arms and his lips crushed against hers, drawing her into a forced kiss as Tressa struggled to get out of his iron grip. The elder male bit her lip to keep her in place and as he kissed her, his hands began wandering along Tressa's waist.

But Tobor made the mistake of letting go of one of her arms, and as soon as it was free Tressa slapped him, hard. He let out an exasperated growl as he tightened his grip on her, and the female winced. She would have bruises later.

Growing impatient, Tobor pushed her onto the bed and got on top of her. Tressa tried to push him away, but he was just too strong for her. She released a pain-filled moan when the male's weight crushed her against the bed. This was so different from Spectre's gentle motions and caring behavior; this was brutal and mindless. And worst of all, it was her husband's father.

"Please, don't!" she whispered as he kissed her cheek, nipping at the tender flesh. But her plea stayed unanswered as he pinned her wrists above her head and used his teeth to tear her nightgown apart. His lustful gaze fell upon her chest, and he whispered to her: "So beautiful. I see Spectre has made a fine choice."

And with these words, Tobor's knees crawled between Tressa's and hell began for the female.

* * *

Thunderhawk slowly opened his eyes. He'd just been awaked in the middle of the night; he heard muffled screams and cries. Who could be making them? He sat up abruptly when he thought he recognized his mother's voice. _Mom? Mom is in danger! _The lavender echidna gathered his courage and got up, determined to save his mother from whatever was threatening her.

Getting out of his room, Thunderhawk listened carefully and realized the noises were coming from his parents' bedroom. _The bad guys who attacked us must be hurting her! _His mind filled up with anger and rage. How dare they harm his mother? Thunderhawk charged and flung open the door to his parents' room. However, nothing prepared the young Guardian-to-be for the sight that greeted him.

There, Mother Tressa was lying on the bed, with Grandfather Tobor on top of her. They were kissing, as Thunderhawk had seen Father Spectre and his mother do many times. Only then his mother was hugging his father close and seemed happy. Now, however, she wasn't looking happy and was trying to push Grandfather away.

Grandfather Tobor raised his eyes and smiled upon seeing Thunderhawk. "Well, hello there, Second-son. Did we wake you up?"

"What are you doing to Mom?" the young boy asked, frowning when he saw that his mother's and grandfather's lower bodies were glued together.

"Your mother here is receiving something called punishment." Grandfather Tobor suddenly ground his hips, and Mother cried out. Now Thunderhawk could see the tears straying her face. "Bu the way, now that you're here…" Grandfather Tobor raised a hand towards the door, which closed and locked soundly. "Why don't you stay? I'm sure this could be sort of… familial."

As Grandfather smirked, Tressa gasped and sobbed some more. This… bastard, she couldn't think of a better word, was forcing her son to watch them. Her six years old son was forced to watch his grandfather rape her.

But Tressa-Ca didn't even have time to think before her abuser once again began his disgusting administrations.

Thunderhawk was standing aside, watching confused as Grandfather Tobor began moving back and forth. Each time Mother Tressa whimpered, tears flowing down her face. She cried out when the brown echidna bit down on her shoulder, and Grandfather Tobor licked his blood-covered lips. Thunderhawk stayed frozen, thinking that what his ancestor was doing wasn't entirely wrong.

After ten minutes of the same routine, Grandfather Tobor groaned and fell on the mattress beside Mother Tressa whose features were now crisped in intense pain. The male pulled her against him, closing his eyes. Mother Tressa soon passed out from pain and exhaustion in Tobor's unwanted embrace.

And during this whole time, Thunderhawk just stood there, not knowing what to do. Not knowing what to think.

* * *

Slowly, ever so slowly, one eye opened half-way. It caught sight of the sun shining through the light brown curtains, proof that night was over.

Still, even if it was time to get up, Tressa-Ca just laid in her bed, not sleeping although not really awake. She'd had a nightmare that night; she had dreamt of Spectre being held prisoner, then Tobor coming to her house to… _This is just plain stupid, _she thought to herself. _Spectre will laugh when I'll tell him about it. _

When Tressa felt the hands resting on her waist, she smiled. Yes, Spectre was lying here beside her; there was no way he could be elsewhere. He apparently figured out she was awake because the hands began to move, softly caressing her fur. Tressa purred and cuddled up to her husband; after her little nightmare his caresses seemed even sweeter.

Then Tressa felt lips place a kiss upon her temple, and a tongue began to lick its way down her cheek, brushing against her nose and finally resting on her neck. "Spectre, you idiot," she giggled as she gently pushed his muzzle away.

"Mom?" Tressa recognized Thunderhawk's voice. "Why are you calling Grandfather Tobor by Dad's name?"

Time froze after that sentence; and all came back to Tressa in a rush. The attack by the lake… Spectre being tortured… the rape… Thunderhawk watching… _By the Gods, it can't be possible! _Tressa's trembling hands felt around for the arms around her waist, and to her horror she found no metallic left arm. She was lying in bed with Tobor.

Tressa tried to move away from him, but immediately a pang of intense pain shot through her lower body. Tears were brought to her eyes as she felt both fresh and dried blood coating her thighs. She realized she had wounds on her shoulders and spines: bite marks from that sick bastard. Tressa couldn't help but sob as Tobor's hands continued to caress her. "Mom?" Thunderhawk asked, concerned. "Mom, are you all right?"

"She will be, child," Tobor's deep voice grunted. He leaned close to whisper in Tressa's ear. "If you ever tell any of the Guardians, or anyone else for that matter, about last night, be sure your dear Spectre will die. Yes, you've understood, I'm in no way a Guardian, but I'm connected to the Dark Legion. Keep quiet, and nothing bad will happen to your husband. Tell anyone… and the Brotherhood will have to find a new Guardian." Growling, Tobor licked her cheek once again. "I'll be back tonight. See you then." And with that, the elder male was up and gone as quickly as he had come the previous night.

Unable to resist anymore, Tressa broke down sobbing uncontrollably. Thunderhawk came to her side and took her hand in both of his. "Mom? Why are you crying? What has he done? Mom, are you all right?" But his mother didn't answer him, not with words anyway. She threw her arms around her son and hugged him to her chest as he tried to decide what he should do.

"Oh Thunderhawk! My poor little son! Why did you have to endure this?" She pressed her cheek atop her son's head as she gently caressed his hair. "You're too young to even… Oh, Spectre, what have I done?" Tressa felt others tears flow from her eyes.

The young lavender boy hugged his mother and whispered the first thing that came to his mind. "Don't worry, Mom. Dad will be home soon."

* * *

Moritori Rex chuckled darkly as he punched his access code to Haven's elevator. Oh, revenge was so sweet… he could get used to it. Plus he surely wouldn't be suspected, and Tressa-Ca would keep her mouth shut if she wanted to see Spectre alive. Thunderhawk… well, Thunderhawk didn't even know what had been happening. It had been fun seeing the confused look upon the boy's face.

_May night fall early, _Moritori thought as he walked in the metallic corridors. But when he turned to reach the surveillance room where he could contact the Dark Legion, he came face to face with Rembrandt. The elder echidna raised one eyebrow. "Tobor? How nice, I precisely wanted to see you."

Moritori couldn't help but feel fear of being discovered. But he managed to crack a smile. "Yes, Fourth-father, what did you want to see me for?" _Be quick, old man, I haven't got all day._

"I just wanted to know where you've been this night," Rembrandt asked, crossing his arms. "I take it you just came back from wherever you've been. All I want to know is where."

"Ah, yes, I've…" _Think, Rex, think damn you! _"I've been… well in truth I've been out most of the night. I first visited Tressa-Ca and my grandson to apologize for the way I acted earlier, then I spend the rest of the night walking in the forest. I was… feeling guilty about what happened to Spectre. I haven't been that much of a father." Moritori looked down, trying to look ashamed.

Rembrandt's hard glare softened but kept a suspicious glint. "All right. Just don't take it too hard, it's not as if what is happening to Spectre is your fault."

Moritori kept his head down to hide his growing smirk. _No, you're right old man. What's happening to Spectre isn't _entirely _my fault. But what's going to happen to him might depends on me. _"I'm going to take over surveillance for a while. I need to think."

Rembrandt nodded and walked away, probably to think up of another plan. _Think while you still can, old man. You won't be able to use your mind in a few days. _Chuckling evilly, Moritori got in the surveillance room. _It's never been so nice to say "Mission Complete."_

* * *

Back at the Dark Legion HQ, in Kragok's room.

"We've got good news," Lien-Da said as she opened the door to the dark room. "Grandfather Moritori avenged us. He even added he would do it again anytime we wanted; I wonder what he meant." The female grinned to her twin brother.

"Yeah, me too," Kragok replied, smirking. "I'm ready to bet he took really good care of that female." The Legionnaire laughed and once again set his sight upon his sister. "By the way, how is it going with that Guardian? Is the kid on the way?" Once again Kragok burst into a raspy laughing fit.

Lien-Da's expression became annoyed as she whacked her brother on the head. "No, you moron. It's far from being the case, actually. This male is even worse than you with women." She ignored Kragok's growl and carried on: "I'm beginning to wonder how that female married him. Maybe she is blind…"

"Yeah, maybe, however _he _isn't," Kragok said grumpily. He was still offended by Lien-Da's previous remark. "So do anything. Show off, do what you do best, do whatever you want but we need an heir for the Dark Legion and leave me alone!" The leader crossed his arms and turned away, now vexed.

The red female approached him and ran her hand along Kragok's jaw. "Do you know you're handsome when you're angry?" she purred.

"Yeah, I know. Now go and have your way with that damn Guardian. Once you're done we'll kill him and then kill the Brotherhood and then we'll be _at peace." _Kragok looked at her. "Why are you still there? I said go!"

"Yes, _Master," _Lien-Da mocked him before running off, probably to find Spectre.

Kragok sighed and sat back in his chair. "I almost pity that Guardian… Oh, well, better him than me."

* * *

A mechanical hiss. Someone was opening the door. Spectre's head rose up in time to see some shadows. Among them he recognized Rykor and Lien-Da, which caused his breath to catch and he growled softly.

Rykor walked forward, tapping a metallic club against his palm. His grin couldn't have been any larger as he leaned forward, looking at Spectre. "I told you you were going to pay, didn't I? Well guess what…"

Spectre didn't make a sound even as the first hit fell upon his skull.

Gritting his teeth, the echidna thanked Aurora he still had his helmet on until Rykor grabbed it and threw it away. _Oh damn. _That was the right word.

That was the only word.


	6. Help At Least

**Disclaimer: **Own nothing. By the way, could something PLEASE tell me where I can get a good english corrector? Being French sucks, sometimes.

**Chapter Six: Help at Last**

Another week.

It was another week away from that cursed day by the lake, which added to another. Secluded in his dark cell, Spectre had nothing better to do than counting the passing days. Oh, and wait for Lien-Da to come back and push his buttons, but that was a different story...

The dark echidna reached around to scratch his back, and winced when his fingers came in contact with one of his wounds. His fur was itching so much, he was sure he had caught some fleas in that Chaos cursed cell. _Life would be perfect if fleas were the only things bothering me... _Pain flared up in his upper back as he tried to lean against the wall; this time he didn't wince. Pain was the only thing that let him know that he was still alive.

In the corridor, two Legionnaires were walking rather uneasily. They came to stand on either side of the door to the prison bay, and then one began fidgeting nervously.

"Are you sure that's here?" he whispered.

The second nodded. "Yes. Spectre is held captive in there." He was about to add something else when the said door slid open and they both stiffened. Lien-Da came out of the prison bay, apparently upset. She grumbled something under her breath and spotted the two Legionnaires.

"What are you two doing here?" she asked with venom.

"We are to keep watch over the prison bay, ma'am," one soldier said in the strongest tone he could manage. "It is bad enough we lost the weird male and the child, we can't afford to let the Guardian escape."

"Who told you this?"

When the Legionnaire seemed to hesit, the other one spoke up. "These are Master Kragok's orders."

Lien-Da stared at him for a few seconds then walked off. "I need to talk to my brother. Yes, all we need is a serious talk." As she disappeared in a turn the Legionnaires exchanged a panicked look.

"Quick, Rembrandt," the first one whispered. Now we have to act fast or she'll alert the whole Legion before we even get the chance to free Spectre."

"I'm getting to it, Second-father," Rembrant said through clenched teeth. He thought fast but panic prevented him from making up an emergency plan. "Damn it, let's make a break for it, nobody's looking!"

The second black-robed echidna, now known as Moonwatcher, nodded and was about to open the door when Rembrandt stopped him with a gesture of his hand. "Hold on. First I want to know something."

"What?" he answered impatiently.

"Why did you say I was weird?"

Moonwatcher repressed a frustrated growl. "Later, Second-son, later!"

The usually glasses-wearing echidna readied himself to force the door open and charged when he was sure nobody was looking his way. He closed his eyes, but half a second before his shoulder met with the metallic panel, it slid open with a hiss. Moonwatcher flailed widly to try and stop his momentum but he didn't catch his balance and stumbled to the floor with a loud curse.

Rembrandt followed him in the prison bay, snickering. "Great, Second-father, just great. And I thought the point was to be subtle about it..."

The elder echidna, who was dusting himself off, glared at him. "Well, you sure helped me with that."

"Never mind, it's not the moment nor the palce to argue, we can wait to be safe in Haven for that." Rembrandt looked around and took in the surprisingly unguarded prison bay. "Well, I thought they would increase guard after we escaped... They are either foolish, too damn proud or too damn lazy."

"Well, however, we are not here to ponder that. Let's rescue Spectre and get back to Haven, this place is creeping me out of my mind," Moonwatcher mumbled, eyes darting back to the opened door and forth. "Being so close to our sworn enemies... hell Rembrandt, we are two, and they are... well much, _much_ more than two!"

The younger Guardian nodded in understanding and ran to the cell he remembered his fifth-son was in. He stopped to open a bag he was hiding under his black robe to retrieve his tools and noticed, to his shock, that the cell was empty. The bars weren't even activated. "But... what the..." was all he could splutter.

"What's wrong?" Moonwatcher called as he adjusted his hood over his head, his gaze never leaving the door. "Forgot your tools?" When his grandson just stood there unmoving, the elder frowned and finally turned to him. "Mobius to Rembrandt, what's the matter with you?"

"I... I think it's too late, Grandfather," Rembrandt stammered, wide eyes still glued on the cell. He turned to Moonwatcher, despair written all over his face. "They've already killed him."

"What are you babbling about?" Moonwatcher took a look at the empty cell and his eyebrows shot up. "Wait, wait, wait, who told you he's dead? They probably moved him to another cell, maybe they're interrogating him or maybe..." His voice trailed off as he failed to find another reason.

"Which other cell? We are in the prison bay, where else could he be?" Rembrandt was nervously walking back and forth, nibbling on his nails as he tended to do when he was worried. "I should have foreseen that they wouldn't keep him forever. I should have come sooner. I should have-"

"Stop moping around for once, will you," Moonwatcher growled. "First, you have no proof he's dead. Second, we would all have felt his death. And third, we told Lien-Da we were going to keep guard over Spectre, and she didn't seem to find it strange as if he were dead, so she knows that he's alive. Therefore, she must know where he is."

Rembrandt nodded although he wasn't really believing his second-father. _Where in the world would they put him? Increase guard, I can understand, but move him? And now that Lien-Da is going to talk to Kragok about us, we're as good as dead. What did I get us into? _"So what? We kidnap her and lock her up till she tells us where he is? Or we simply ask her politely?"

Even if he knew his grandson was speaking out of despair and fear for his fifth-son, Moonwatcher couldn't help but growl and shake his head. He was going to bite back a sharp comment of his, but he was cut off when they heard a commotion outside the prison bay.

"I don't see "strange-acting and suspicious-looking Legionnaires" anywhere there, sister," a deep male voice came from the hall. "I really think you should stop spending every single night with my men doing whatever you are doing and rest, for your own good. Now, let go of me, unless you I have work to attend to."

"I do _not _need rest, Kragok! I saw them! They told me they were ordered to stand guard over the Guardian. I thought only you, me and Rykor were to know where we are keeping him! You could have warned me before you told them, you stupid ass, I nearly killed them on the spot!" Lien-Da's voice was hysterical, angry as she was that her brother didn't see fit to warn her.

"Lien, I can swear I never told anyone... You're sure you saw them? And they told you that?"

"Unless I've suddenly gone mad, yes I'm sure!"

"I sense trouble for us," Moonwatcher whispered to Rembrandt. "If they decide to get in, we're in for-" He was cut off by the metallic door opening with a hiss. "Oh well..."

No use in hiding: the entire room was bare and the only way out was the one their enemies were using right now. Moonwatcher stepped closer to Rembrandt to protect him should the need arise.

The younger Guardian fumbled with his hood to put it back on, but the Legionnaires stepped in the prison bay before he got the chance to do so. Lien-Da shrieked when she recognised him, and Kragok widened his eyes, his forearms (flesh and metal) shooting up defensively. The Master growled softly as Moonwatcher threw his hood back to reveal himself. "Well, well," he said in a sweet voice. "What do we have here? Seems to me our family get-together isn't for another century... Coming to the tea party I've never invited you to, aren't you?"

"You usually chit-chat when you know you're going to lose, Kragok," Moonwatcher hissed. "I wouldn't be so confident if I were you."

"What's there not to be confident about?" the Legionnaire spat, his words dripping with venom. His mechanical eye was glaring at them when his slim lips drew up in a smirk. "Two Guardians trapped in the middle of my Headquarter, thousands of Legionnaires ready to kill you... I'm already thinking about who will take your torn-up bodies back to your family, _cousins._"

When Moonwatcher sighed dramatically, Rembrandt just had to wonder what his second-father was up to. "And here I was hoping we wouldn't come to this..." The younger Guardian couldn't help but widen his eyes when he saw his grandfather take the blue Chaos emerald from a pocket. How in hell did he manage to steal it from Steppenwolf's careful watch?

Upon seeing the emerald, Kragok and Lien-Da slightly backed up, but Kragok's foolish pride made him open his mouth. "You are making a big mistake... if you think you are going to win with your pathetic little blue rock," he said, sounding less confident than earlier.

"Well then." It was Moonwatcher's turn to smirk as he produced the green Chaos emerald from another pocket. This time Kragok took a step back, quickly followed by his sister. "If this isn't enough for you, I've got another one in my jacket, but I trust you to know I don't need them in my hands for them to work." Moonwatcher held the emeralds, getting more confident each passing second as he felt the raw power they contained.

_Grandfather, have you gone insane? _Rembrandt asked him over their mental bond.

_Just trust me, Second-son, and don't ever dare calling me insane! _

Uneasy, Kragok backed up to the door. "Just you wait there... I promise you the fight of your life, you won't regret it." The Master stuck his head out and called for his Legionnaires. "Guards! Guards! Why the hell is there nobody here!"

"Because of you, stupid," Lien-Da scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "You forbade them to go in this aisle because you said it would look less suspicious, and so the Guardians would never know we're keeping the black Guardian in the hidden room of the prison b-"

Kragok ran to her and clamped his flesh hand over her mouth. "Shut it, you fool!"

Moonwatcher chuckled. "She has a lovely mouth, I reckon... Better when it's not running, right?" The echidna turned to his grandson. "Find him, Rembrandt. I'll take care of them."

"But how-"

"I'll be fine. I've got three friends of mine that are going to help me. Find him!" he barked when Rembrandt didn't do anything. This got the younger male moving, and he began searching the room for a secret door.

It didn't take him long to find the hidden panel in the far corner of the prison bay. He opened it, trying to ignore the sounds of the upcoming battle behind him. By the feels of it his grandfather was charging up power, making his hair stand on end. Rembrandt managed to shunt the panel with an expert flick of his cutter, and almost immediately the wall slid to reveal another cell.

Blocking out the sound of the first chaos blast being hurled at Kragok, Rembrandt got in the dark cell, turning his laser wire cutter on. His breath caught in his chest when he was able to make out that the black ball sitting in a corner was in fact his fifth-son.

Spectre was lying on his side, facing away from the door. From what Rembrandt could see, his back was scarred from nape to tail; whip wounds, he thought with horror. His left metallic leg was long gone, and the right one was so damaged Hawking would probably have to replace it. _If we manage to get of here, _the elder Guardian reminded himself grimly, getting closer to his fifth-son to check up on him. In some places, Spectre's jet black fur had been ripped off, revealing red and angry skin; his remaining fur looked dull and unclean. On closer inspection, Rembrandt was able to make out bones right under the fur, moving with every breath the young echidna took; did they starve him?

Now wasn't the time to think about it; Rembrandt had to be quick. He knelt beside his fifth-son and, extending his wire cutter, he neatly cutted off the chains holding Spectre's feet and hands in place. Edmund's fourth-son didn't waste any time; he took Spectre in his arms and lifted him up, amazed at how light he was. With a last look towards the initially white helmet that now lay in a corner of the cell, Rembrandt turned heels and sprinted out.

Meanwhile Moonwatcher was struggling to hold Kragok back, Lien-Da off to find Legionnaires. Firmly planted on his feet, teeth gritted, he was summoning as much power as he could to keep the Legionnaires from coming closer by creating a chaos-powered shield which cut the prison bay in two. Growling fiercely, Kragok was throwing red chaos bolts that crashed against the shield, weakening it slightly.

As beads of sweat began to appear on Moonwatcher's face, he caught Rembrandt from the corner of an eye; his second-son was exiting a room with a black lump in his arms that looked like an echidna. _I was beginning to wonder where the hell he had been... _The green glasses-wearing Guardian turned his head a little to get a better look at Spectre; Kragok saw this and hurled a more powerful blast which caused the shield to shrink a bit. "Ah!" he exclaimed, a triumphal grin on his face. "Is that all you can do, Guardian? Even with those little rocks of yours? I'm most impressed!"

_Let's make a run for it, Grandfather! _Rembrandt told Moonwatcher. He was carrying Spectre with one arm under what was left of his legs, the other one under his shoulderblades and the younger male's head was resting upon his shoulder.

_I was about to suggest it... _

Slowly, ever so slowly, Moonwatcher's chaos powered shield was shrinking. The more the shield shrunk, the more the Guardian's hands began to glow green. He was gathering all the power he had used in the shield in his palms, shuddering as he was filled with power beyond what he had ever been able to use. Kragok's grin faded immediately, replaced by a look of slight fear. "What the-" he muttered, trying to get himself back together in order to fire a chaos blast, but his mind was glued to his enemy's hands.

Moonwatcher gave off a grunt as the biggest chaos bolt he had ever seen formed itself between his hands. This one was glowing a blinding white color, and it hurt his eyes which were fighting to stay focused on the task at hand. Downright frightened, Kragok ran to the door. "Guards! Guards!" Those were the last words he spoke that day.

The chaos blast was launched, and caught Kragok from behind. The Legionnaire literally flew forwards to crash into the hard concrete wall, head first. Rembrandt inwardly winced when Kragok's skull met the wall with a sickening crack, before the Legionnaire slid to the floor in a tangle of black robes.

Moonwatcher ran to his dark cousin, a disgusted and disappointed look on his face. "What? He's alive? That blow should have killed him on the spot!"

"You forget the emeralds only allow us to defend and protect, they wouldn't let us use them to kill someone, Grandfather," Rembrandt piped in, adjusting his grip on Spectre.

Moonwatcher growled and put his boot on Kragok's head. "Then let me take care of this little problem, right now."

"Grandfather! This is no time to do that. Legionnaires could be on their way to kill us as we talk. We have to get Spectre, and by the way ourselves, out of there before it's too late!" Rembrandt pleaded with his second-father. When Moonwatcher just stood there unmoving, his boot still on Kragok's skull, seemingly deep in thought, the younger Guardian called him. "Second-father! Would you let Spectre die because of this?"

Finally Moonwatcher sighed. "You're right. Let's go." He gave the Legionnaire one last heartfelt kick in the guts, and he ran to catch up with Rembrandt who was already looking for a way out of the headquarter.

_There should be an exit near, it leads to the forest next to Haven, _Rembrandt informed his second-father through their bond, focusing on running rather than talking. _Once we're out we could destroy it so they can't follow us! _

_All right, Rembrandt, we'll do just that... ah, second-son?_

_What is it?_

_Could you please be so kind as to not inform your third -father I... borrowed a few emeralds for the benefit of this mission? I'm afraid he might not take it well... _

_Rest assured, Grandfather, _Rembrandt laughed. _He won't know a thing. Now let's hurry, and with a little luck we'll be in Haven's kitchen in three hours! _


End file.
